We awake this morning surprisingly not dead from grizzly bear attacks. I am amazed and grateful to be alive.

The group is a bit wistful now. The fun part of the trip is over, and the farther east we drive, the more boring and flat it’s going to get. The driving days will be long in order to make it home on schedule. Home, hah. Pete and Tom are starting to deal with the reality they have to go to work in a few days. Laura and I are not dealing with that reality, and in fact don’t go back to work until the following February.

The drive out of Glacier Park is beautiful. We are seen off by a herd of Roosevelt elk. We drive through mountain passes and high country as far as Billings, where we find a room for the night. Along the long trail today, we get our first of many looks at the Missouri River.

Pete notes that we saw our first Wall Drug sign just outside of Bozeman. It would be the first of many. In Bozeman, we stop at the Spanish Peaks Brewing Company for a Slosh-funded dinner and a brew. Our waitress is from the Twin Cities. You betcha!

Our motel in Billings leaves absolutely no impression on me, although I seem to remember some difference of opinion between our party and the desk clerk. The Montana School of Taxonomy (Hotels Division) calls the bug we killed a waterbug, while we from the Wisconsin School of Taxonomy would call it a cockroach.

The notes say we dub the pool here “Lake Chlorine.” We are well entertained at the hotel bar by a bartender named Marcie. She is tall, and seems obsessed by her height with respect to Hollywood leading men. I am more interested in my drink. Mmmmm, gin!

Tomorrow is an even longer driving day. The terrain is getting flatter. We’ll make good time, but have nothing much to look at except the expanse of prairie. I can’t help but think of Lewis & Clark.